


pretending

by ninata



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Confessions, M/M, Rated T for language, Rejection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5821756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninata/pseuds/ninata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knowing the answer doesn't make it any less hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pretending

“I’m sorry.”

Tohru stared at the floor, his eyes stinging. He wanted to say a million different things, wanted to weave words that would’ve saved him from embarrassment, from shame, from crippling misery.

“It’s okay, Iwa-chan.” He said instead, pulling his lips back into something like a smile. He’s known the answer since he was eight years old, and he promised himself not to be hurt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Toh-- ...Oikawa…”

“To-mo-rrow.” He adjusted his grip on the strap of his duffelbag. “Iwa-chan, don’t be so cruel! You should at least give me the chance to mourn what could have been, right?”

Hajime gritted his teeth, looking off to the side. Tohru shouldn’t have watched him, shouldn’t have picked apart every detail of the image; every hair on his head, every bit of tension in his expression, every ounce of pity that his closest friend held for him.

It didn’t hurt, because this was inevitable. It was good to get it over with. They had both known for as long as they could remember, and the only surprise was how long it took Tohru to get it out of his mouth.

They had been neighbors since they were children, sharing everything with each other. Hajime had been there for every broken bone, every missed spike, every time Tohru thought he was going to snap from the weight he put on his own shoulders. Hajime was always there, always by his side.

He wanted it to stay like that.

Their houses were in the same direction, so it was impossible to run away. Tohru took the challenge head on, rambling as their sneakers hit the pavement, streetlights punctuating each block they walked. It was easy; it was always easy, always so simple to pretend he wasn’t in his head. Being fake was his baseline, after all.

“That reminds me,” He heard himself say, “You don’t have a girlfriend yet, do you, Iwa-chan?” It was a typical conversation, one they’d had a thousand times. “Well, there’s this girl from 3-A that really, reaaaally likes you, and--”

“Stop it.”

It was like a slap to the face. Or maybe even a volleyball to the head. Tohru flinched, having barely noticed that Hajime had stopped walking. He turned on his heel to face him.

“Just...stop, okay?” Hajime was barely audible, face tipped down, shadows covering his features. “You don’t have to do this. Stop pretending you’re okay.”

“...Huh?” Tohru felt something seize his chest, squeezing around his heart. His arms prickled. Words came out in spurts. “What else am I supposed to do, then? Should I be crying? I don’t look cute when I cry! You know that.”

Hajime opened his mouth to speak, but stopped.

They continued the walk home in silence.

“See you tomorrow morning!” Tohru said with false enthusiasm as the door slammed shut.

* * *

What had made him finally say it?

Tohru wasn’t sure. He had finally worked up the courage, maybe? No, nothing that romantic. It was an impulse, at best. Maybe those muscular arms and sweat drenched skin finally got to him. Maybe Hajime had hit him in the head too many times and knocked something loose.

The day had progressed so normally; classes dragged on and took seemingly no time at all. Practice was practice, everything went as smoothly as it should’ve, and afterwards he shooed Makki and Mattsun off while he pulled Hajime aside.

“Iwa-chan.” He had said, as brightly as always. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Hajime didn’t suspect a thing. Of course he didn’t. Tohru smiled and smiled, trying not to let it falter.

“What do you need?”

“Only a few minutes of your precious time.” Tohru kept his tone even, his hands tucked in his pockets. Going over it all in his head.

“Okay.” His precious Iwa-chan swiped his hand back through his hair, leaning on one foot. “Go on.”

“Iwa-chan,” Tohru took a breath. “ _Hajime_.” A name he hadn’t called him in what felt like years, not even in private together. Once they hit middle school, it became embarrassing to use first names. _Can I call you Iwa-chan, then?_ Tohru had asked, hiding his shaking hands behind his back.

“You do know that I’m in love with you, don’t you?”

 _Careful_. Tohru picked out his words carefully, but it still didn’t feel real. Why did he have to say it like that? He had thought about it over and over again, rephrased, reworded, thought of thousands of scenarios and hundreds of outcomes and dreamed and hoped. He ran circles around himself in his head. He _wanted_ so badly, wanted the warmth of breath and dry palms to hold. He wanted every ounce of Hajime Iwaizumi, every pore and every fiber.

He was greedy.

He fiddled with the inside of his pockets, wondering when the room got so cold. The same expression as always, a sly grin that seemed to know so much and could only hope to live up to that expectation. Tohru loved certainty, loved the absolute and everything to go as planned.

“...What the Hell is that supposed to mean, Kusoikawa?”

“Hajime.” Tohru repeated the name, sounding out every syllable, trying to emphasize how serious he was. How serious his usual smile and usual posture and usual everything could be. “You know what I mean.”

Pretenses began to drop, Tohru’s smile fading at the edges. The unknown was terrifying, but what was more terrifying was the answer he knew he’d get. Scarier than anything was that Tohru knew how this would end, and so did Hajime. There was no point, no reason for him to say it, but his want was gnawing at him. Every time a girl spoke to him, Tohru felt it bite into his consciousness; the same want he’d had since he was a kid.

It had been with him every moment, ever since Hajime held his hand when they got lost trying to get home as elementary schoolers, ever since Hajime helped Tohru lose his first tooth after an hour of trying to coax him into punching him, even ever since he picked up a volleyball. It was always Hajime, always sunkissed shoulders and joking insults and always the same hands and the same eyes. He’d known since he met him that he loved him, that after years and years he’d be standing here on the verge of collapse with that want crushing him.

“Yeah. I know.” Hajime sounded different. Tired. “I’d hoped you’d given up by now.”

“I couldn’t.” Tohru swallowed. “I can’t.”

“Why not? You’re...you’re my best friend, Tohru. I could never…”

“I know.”

“I just can’t think of you like that.”

“I know.” Tohru squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his chin down.

“Can’t you...I mean, any of those girls, they--”

“They’re not you.”

Hajime’s feet scuffed against the wooden floor. “Shit.” He paused. “ _Shit_.”

“Couldn’t...E-Even if it was just for a day, couldn’t you just _try…_ ” Tohru knew the answer.

“No, I…”

Everything was going as it should’ve. Tohru couldn’t be resentful when he knew this was the only way the conversation could end.

He wanted to cry. He could’ve. Would it have made Hajime pity him?

 _No_. And he knew that.

“I’m sorry.” Hajime said, and Tohru could feel the tears threatening to spill. He wanted to cry, but that would be unfair. He really, _really_ wanted to cry, but the feeling was locked away tightly before he could bring himself to. He wanted to say something, anything, but could only produce one sentence.

“It’s okay, Iwa-chan.”

* * *

 

Tohru stared at his ceiling that night, abstaining from his usual “good night~!” text to Hajime. Was it over, then? Was this something to be locked up as well, unnecessary and forgotten? His feelings for Hajime, done with, just like that?

He’d imagined a thousand outcomes, and not one ended with a “yes”. It was impossible for Hajime to love Tohru in the way he did, whether because of his lack of breasts or his carefully constructed smarminess. It was everything about Tohru, it was nothing. Hajime just didn’t love him.

Did it hurt? Tohru could say yes, but would that change anything? It just didn’t matter.

The tears he’d kept away came back with a vengeance, and Tohru indulged them as they trailed down his temples. He didn’t want to stop loving Hajime; he really didn’t. It left him with only one option.

He’d just have to pretend, like he always did, that it wasn’t there.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to shaqfu and my good pal sink for the beta!  
> i'm still not caught up with haikyuu, but of course i fall for the smarmy asshole and his childhood best friend. predictable. well, either way, thank you for the read!


End file.
